


Examination Room 3

by clio



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, I still get embarrassed by this, M/M, Mino is a doctor lolz, This is the super duper edited version so yay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio/pseuds/clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nam Taehyun is scheduled for a physical. Dr. Song is more than happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Physical

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for language and adult situations.

“This way please.”

Taehyun noticed the nurse’s swinging ponytail as he trailed behind her, one of his lumbering steps an answer to the near melodic sounds of her dainty ones. She led him down a corridor, pausing before the last door on the left, Examination Room 3 emblazoned across its wood paneling.

“If you would wait right in here,” the nurse opened the door and bade him enter. She spoke in that tilted, affected accent that so many healthcare workers thought was synonymous with calm and professional, but which Taehyun would say was more nasally with a side of squeaky.

"Doctor Song will be right with you." As she reached for the door handle, Taehyun swore the nurse’s eyes give him a once over before settling on his face, the barest shadow of a smirk pulling at her lips. It wasn’t something that was, at this point in his life, much of a surprise for Taehyun—he knew his looks caused open curiosity and admiration in others—and he wouldn’t even have given it a second thought if not for her eyes. Instead of being the lewd gaze he often found himself the recipient of, her eyes bore into his with a fierce determination to search and find something he knew not what. She was trying to read something in him, Taehyun knew as much, and it made him retract and shut down even further. He broke eye contact and strode more purposefully into the room.

“If you need anything in the meantime, please let me know.” There wasn’t a hint of suggestiveness in her voice, and when Taehyun glanced her way, it seemed that her mask of professionalism was firmly in place. Bowing slightly, she pulled the door close behind her, leaving Taehyun to wonder just what she was about.

Plopping down on the edge of the examination table, paper crinkling underneath him, Taehyun sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, wondering just how long he’d have to wait.

Heels already kicking against the clunky examination table, Taehyun was surprised that not a minute after the nurse left did the door open and in breezed a white lab coat with a clipboard.

Song Minho, as Taehyun read the name embroidered above the doctor’s chest pocket, was absolutely striking—that was easy enough to recognize—with his sun-kissed skin practically glowing in contrast to the whiteness of his lab coat, his coiffed hair and thick rimmed glasses doing nothing but accentuating his truly gifted bone structure, and not even that ill-fitting lab coat could hide the promise of his broad shoulders.

“Nam Taehyun,” Minho reached his hand out, “I’m Dr. Song. I’ll be examining you today.”

Taehyun swallowed. Dr. Song had one smooth baritone of a voice. It made his stomach clench. Feeling his palms grow uncharacteristically damp, Taehyun wiped his hands on the leg of his jeans before extending his own. He managed a meager, “Hi.”

Minho smiled in response, his strong grip also cradling Taehyun’s own hand. Minho also had, Taehyun noted as he gazed openly at the doctor, a perfect set of blinding white teeth.

Walking over to the counter while flipping through Taehyun’s chart, brow furrowed in concentration, Minho glanced at Taehyun before scribbling down a few things. “You’re in today for a physical?” he asked. Normally, Taehyun would have rolled his eyes at such an obvious question, but the way Minho was chewing on the end of his pen was distracting.

“Yes,” Taehyun knew he sounded a bit strangled. “It’s for work,” he added, not sure why.

Minho nodded thoughtfully, flipping back and forth between pages of the chart in his hands. After a moment, he set the chart down on the counter before directing his undivided attention towards Taehyun, who unconsciously sat up straighter.

“Let’s get started then.” Minho approached Taehyun, taking slow and measured steps towards the examination table. Taehyun, feeling surpringly self-conscious, dared not to make eye contact with the good doctor, and instead stared pointedly at Minho’s adam’s apple as it rested just before him.

“I’m just going to start with a head examination…” Minho explained softly as he raised his hands and, bending slightly forward so that their legs touched, entangled them in the softness of Taehyun’s hair. Taehyun inhaled sharply at the contact. As Minho’s fingers continued to probe his skull he asked, “Have you experienced an increase of hair loss? Any rashes?”

Taehyun could only shake his head. There was something about the doctor’s touch, the tone of his voice. It was almost…sensual.

He felt Minho’s gentle touch on his eyebrows. “Open your eyes, Taehyun,” Minho breathed and it was only then that Taehyun realized that his eyes had been closed. Snapping his eyes open, Taehyun was greeted by the sight of Minho’s warm, if not intense, gaze. “Skin color around the eyes looks healthy, eyelashes and eyebrows look nice and full.”

Minho then cupped Taehyun’s face, which caused the patient’s eyes to widen in surprise. Seeming to ignore Taehyun’s shock, Minho used his thumbs to lightly caress the skin under Taehyun’s eyes for a moment before pulling the skin down ever so gently. “Look up for me, Taehyun,” the doctor requested. Recovering, the patient diligently obeyed.

“Okay,” Minho smiled, one of his hands coming to Taehyun’s chin and tipped it up, their faces mere inches apart. Taehyun, feeling entirely spellbound, parted his lips when he felt Minho’s thumb stroke his jaw line.

“Please turn your head to your right,” Minho instructed before taking a step back and breaking contact. Grabbing a device off the console next to him, Minho inserted the instrument into Taehyun’s ear canal, checking one ear then another.

“You have adorable ears,” came the whisper, Minho’s fingers brushing against the lobe and his breath hot against Taehyun’s cheek. At this point, Taehyun felt his whole body flush, which was the last thing he wanted, since his ears practically glowed red when he was embarrassed.

Or aroused.

Taehyun couldn’t deny that he felt powerless in the doctor’s presence. That he found the doctor entirely desirable was evident in the tightening of his lower stomach, how breathless he was whenever the doctor touched him, the pull in his jeans that made him want to squirm. What wasn’t clear, however, was if this was all part of a routine check-up, or if, Taehyun secretly hoped, he was being seduced.

“I don’t really see ears like yours often,” Minho spoke conversationally. “They’re unique. Like your eyebrows,” Minho chuckled to himself as he pulled out a wooden tongue depressor.

“Say ‘ah.’” Minho checked the inside of Taehyun’s mouth, poking around with depressor. “Teeth look alright. Now, stick out your tongue, please.” Taehyun did it. “Move it up and down. Move it to the left. Right. Now up and down again.”

Finally satisfied, Minho grinned. “Perfect.”

Stepping closer once again, Minho’s thigh against Taehyun’s, Minho reached up and placed his arms on the patient’s shoulders. Taehyun willed himself to look at the ceiling, hands clenched in his lap. Fingers probing the flesh of his throat and shoulders, Taehyun felt Minho vary the amount of pressure he was using as he stroked his skin—sometimes bordering on pain, other times as soft as a caress. At times, he could swear he felt Minho begin to massage his muscles.

“Neck and throat look good,” Minho murmured. “Do you work out?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just because you have surprisingly strong shoulders,” Minho explained. “Great physique. Almost textbook perfect,” he added as an afterthought.

“Thanks.” Taehyun watched as Minho extracted his stethoscope from his coat pocket.

Minho motioned to the dress shirt Taehyun was wearing. “I need to check your lungs.” But when Taehyun’s hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt in order to allow his doctor access to his chest, Minho stepped up and swatted his hands away.

“I’ll do it,” Minho said with a smile. Taehyun watched as his doctor undid the button by his collar before moving down to the next one, Minho’s fingers and knuckles brushing against him and not stopping until the entirety of Taehyun’s shirt fell away to reveal the smooth skin beneath.

Minho took the bell end of his stethoscope and blew hot air onto it, “I don’t want it to be cold for you,” he explained before placing the other ends in his ears. Leaning forward, Minho peeled back the edges of Taehyun’s shirt, causing Taehyun to shiver against the exposure. Placing the bell of the stethoscope on Taehyun’s chest, Minho instructed his patient to breathe deeply as he listened to his heart and lungs.

“Are you nervous, Taehyun?” Minho’s voice seemed to drop into something deeper, more intimate, his dark eyes burning into Taehyun. “Your heart is beating awfully fast.”

Before Taehyun could manage a reply, he felt Minho’s other hand come up and palm his chest, his fingers tracing his pectoral muscle before grazing over his nipple. Taehyun let out a shaky breath. Minho just smiled and let his hand continue its journey south, over the curves and planes of Taehyun’s stomach, toying briefly with the trail of hair just below his belly button, and stopping where the trail disappeared into his pants.

“Relax, Taehyun,” Minho whispered, his face somehow closer and more handsome than Taehyun remembered. “Your heart is racing.” Taehyun didn’t respond; he was more concerned with the finger Minho was running across his stomach, along the edge of his pants.

“I’m now going to check for hernias,” Minho announced as he removed the stethoscope, moving to put on a pair of latex gloves. “If you would please remove your pants and underwear.” Taehyun knew he was playing with fire. Knew there was some line he was about to cross, but there was something about this doctor that made him want to be reckless.

Seeing that Taehyun was still dressed, Minho gave him his best reassuring smile. “You’ll be safe with me, Taehyun,” his voice deep ladden with what Taehyun was sure was hidden meaning. “I promise.”

He drew close to his patient once more. Much closer. Taehyun watched as Minho reached out and rested a hand on his belt buckle, fingertips inches away from Taehyun’s barely concealed erection.

“Shall we continue then, Taehyun?” Minho’s hands now wantonly raked across Taehyun’s thighs, massaging, caressing, lightly brushing over his erection. Taehyun let out a long and shaky exhale, hands fisting the paper on the examination table as his legs fell open.

“What was that?” Minho asked, withdrawing his hands.

“Yes,” Taehyun breathed his submission. Fumbling for his belt, Taehyun stood and undid the buckle, sliding his pants and underwear down his legs. Freeing himself of his shirt entirely, Taehyun stood naked and aroused under Minho’s watchful gaze.

Sitting on a nearby stool and rolling it over to where Taehyun stood with his pants around his ankles, Minho reached out and, with a feather-light touch, cupped Taehyun’s balls in his hand. Taehyun could feel Minho’s fingertips caressing the sensitive skin and he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. Every breath Minho took tickled the hair around the base of his penis, and he had to close his eyes against its warmth on his skin. “Now if you would please turn your head to the side and cough for me,” Minho instructed, his hand still cradling Taehyun’s balls. And although now painfully erect, the patient did as he was told.

“Alright. See? That wasn’t too bad,” Mino grinned up at Taehyun, releasing his hold. “No hernias to report.” Minho let his fingertip gently run along the underside of Taehyun’s penis, lightly thumbing the head as he gathered the already seeping pre-cum onto his finger. Taehyun gasped, his knees gave at the touch and he grabbed hold of the edge of the table to steady himself.

Minho was examining the pre-cum on his finger. “Consistency is good, no discoloration, blood, or undue odor,” he rattled off. “Penis shows no signs of rashes or sores, which is always a good thing. You have an impressive length, Taehyun. Desirable girth too.”

Taehyun flushed, the fleeting touch of Minho on his penis driving him wild with need.

“And now if you would turn around and bend over the examination table, I’ll check your prostate.” Taehyun followed Minho’s instructions, wanting everything that Minho was willing to give him. He supported his weight on his hands, bending over slightly with his ass exposed.

Taehyun once again felt Minho’s touch as he caressed his exposed skin, fingers roaming over the mounds before gently parting them. Minho stroked him between his cheeks, causing Taehyun to throw his head back in pleasure, before he felt a cold substance being applied to his hole. “I’ve just applied some lube to make things more comfortable for you, Taehyun,” Minho’s deep voice whispered across Taehyun’s back.

Crying out, Taehyun felt himself being stretched as Minho inserted his finger into him. Slowly, Minho withdrew his finger, only to slide it in once more, a little bit further this time. Taehyun groaned, hips thrusting forward then back, wanting more, his body needing friction.

Minho inserted his finger completely into Taehyun and pressed on his prostate gland, which drew a deep moan from the patient and caused the him to buckle against the table. He gasped when he felt Minho withdraw from him completely.

“Now, Taehyun,” Minho’s voice was full of need in his ear. “This concludes your medical examination. You are free to go. Unless…” Minho licked the shell of Taehyun’s ear, “Unless you want to continue with this physical examination.”

Minho pressed his body completely against Taehyun’s, the doctor allowing the patient to feel the evidence of his own arousal.

“What do you want, Taehyun?” Minho growled. Almost whimpering, Taehyun pressed back, grinding his ass against Minho’s erection, need and lust and anticipation overwhelming his senses.

“Say it,” Minho commanded, hands gripping Taehyun’s hips. “Say you want me to finish what I started. That you want me to fuck you Taehyun.”

He grit his teeth. “Fuck me, Dr. Song.”

Minho’s reply was the sound of his zipper being undone.

\---

“You’re so beautiful, Taehyun,” Minho breathed against his neck, his voice tight with exertion. Taehyun groaned as Minho’s reached around and began to stroke Taehyun’s erection, pumping furiously in time with his own thrusts.

“But you already know that. You might have even known that I wanted to fuck you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Deeper,” Taehyun panted as Minho fucked him from behind. Minho obeyed, changed his angle, and thrust in deeply, all of him disappearing into Taehyun. The patient cried out, Minho having reached that spot so desperately desired.

“But what you didn’t know then was how much you wanted me to,” Minho could feel his stomach tighten as he drove into Taehyun’s slick heat, the tightness and Taehyun’s moaning urging him on.

“Doctor…” gasped Taehyun, hands slipping over the examination table in front of him. He was so close, the build up was excruciating, he just needed—

“It’s Minho. Now scream.” And Taehyun obeyed, groaning Minho’s name over and over as he came.

Minho released in a low, deep moan.

\---

“Alright, it looks like you have a clean bill of health.” After gazing at his chart, the nurse smiled up at him from behind the counter. Taehyun just nodded, having not quite recovered from what happened in Examination Room 3.

“However, Dr. Song is a bit worried about your heart.” The nurse’s conspiratorial gaze pierced him, “and wants to schedule a follow up appointment. How does next week sound?”

A smile broke over Taehyun’s face. “That sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a one-shot on AFF that I've re-edited, so if you read it on AFF there may be some changes.
> 
> Cross posted on my [LJ](http://clio323.livejournal.com/14891.html)


	2. The Follow Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated for mature language and themes.

Taehyun didn’t really know what he was doing, what to expect, or even what he would say. It was too out of the ordinary for him, too foreign for him to truly grasp as he sat in a nearly abandoned coffee shop across from the hospital, sipping his much too hot coffee.

He relished in the feeling of the scalding liquid burning his throat and settling into his stomach, the sensation was pleasing to him—there was satisfaction to be found in pain—because it was something he could comprehend. The warmth in his stomach an effect of the coffee he so purposefully and recklessly poured down his throat, the hot coffee an incidental effect of it sitting too long in a warming pot, which was in itself an effect of a neglectful and oblivious teenage barista working behind the counter, whose boredom was the result of the lack of customers and any sort of stimulation. Causes and effects—all things Taehyun could logically understand, categorize, and store away neatly in far off and forgotten corners of his mind. That he could do.

Causes and effects.

What he didn’t understand were the nights he woke to find himself covered in his own stickiness, whimpering and shuddering in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm triggered in no small part by hazy dreams—recollections really—of a man in a white lab coat fucking him to oblivion.

Cause and effect.

Without a doubt, the tryst in Examination Room 3 had been the best sexual experience of his life—and that was saying something. Taehyun had many memorable encounters literally under his belt, from a variety of partners. But he never dreamt about them afterwards. No matter how exciting or unconventional these encounters were—his favorite experiences being in dingy bar bathrooms in between sets, the punishing sounds of bass pounding through speakers covering all sorts of sins—he never ended up waking up from erotic dreams because of them.

And it wasn’t that his partners were drunken mistakes made when he didn’t know up from down, male from female. Far from it. To be sure, his partners were the chosen ones, the privileged, and he did find them to be attractive, irresistibly so, although he never stayed the night with any of them, didn’t trade phone numbers, didn’t make promises, and definitely didn’t keep them around for more than a few rounds. For Taehyun, his sexual encounters were simple exchanges of needs. He was able to explore his attraction with someone freely and without complications. And once out of his system, he could return to his life without another thought of his lovers.

Which is exactly the reason why Taehyun couldn’t figure why all this week he couldn’t get the memory of his good and handsome doctor out of his mind. Taehyun spent far too many sessions in the shower thrusting into his hand, half remembering, half imagining the specific way Minho stroked him until he came all over that examination table. And he was always left watching the effect the doctor had on him wash down the drain in water that had long turned cold.

Effect: him jerking off in the middle of the night, jerking off in the shower, being aroused any time he so much as saw the color white.

Cause: Dr. Song Minho

And if that one encounter, brief though it was, had been the principal catalyst fueling his fantasies this past week, then he was sure that this afternoon’s follow-up would leave him with enough stimuli to last him a month. Maybe even more.

The image, not even an hour old, of Minho—as he liked to be called— on his knees in front of Taehyun, those depthless eyes glossy and wanton with desire boring into him, the sharp angle of Minho’s hallowed out cheeks as he sucked on Taehyun, the almost sinful way Minho was able to take all of him into his mouth when Taehyun reached down, gripped his hair and fucked his mouth; the roguish way, after Minho had swallowed every drop of Taehyun had to offer, he had stood up with a satisfied smirk, glasses askew, and licked his lips. No, those images would not leave Taehyun’s memory any time soon, of that he was sure.

And it was later, when Taehyun watched as Minho, with a gentleness that made Taehyun's heart flutter, cleaned between his legs, mopping up their combined slickness, that Taehyun was overwhelmed with this feeling that he couldn’t place.

Driven by the need to say something, to communicate with this man who was tending to him with just such a contrite expression on his face, Taehyun blurted, “I need to see you again.”

Minho grinned at him, devilish and unhurried, and tossed the used towels into a bin. “Shall we make another appointment for next week?”

“No," came Taehyun's unsteady response.

The word—no, the way Taehyun said it—stopped Minho in his tracks and chased the laughter from his eyes. It was full of longing, of uncertainty, of...affection.

“Okay. Let me finished up here and I’ll meet you at the coffee shop across the street in 30 minutes. We can talk there,” Minho suggested, his whole demeanor serious. The last image Taehyun had of Minho was of the doctor running his hands through his hair—either in an attempt to smooth down the unruly mess, or in frustration— and sighing deeply.

Unconsciously, Taehyun tucked his own hair behind his ears as he bit at his fingernails, watching for any approaching figures through the coffee shop window.

Effect: extreme nervousness and unease

Cause: Song Minho

\---

Dr. Song Minho made his way down the hospital cooridors, not exactly dragging his feet but certainly not in any rush even knowing he was already 5 minutes late. As he stood at the street corner, waiting for the signal to change, he could see a solitary figure sitting in the coffee shop opposite him. The man was breathtaking, there was really no other way to put in, and Taehyun framed in the emptiness of the shop made him seem even more of an impossible beauty, one that nonetheless stirred desire in Minho’s stomach.

He had been looking forward to Taehyun’s appointment all day (all week, if he were more honest with himself); it was perfectly scheduled at the end of the day so they could be undisturbed and unhurried, and the build up of anticipation, the delay in gratification, made them moment he released, unintentionally, inside of Taehyun, his groans muffled against the skin of Taehyun’s chest, all the more sweet.

Entering the coffee shop, Minho could see that Taehyun tried not to look too affected by his presence, which moved something like pity in him. He raked his eyes over Taehyun, once more taken aback by the unusual features of the young man, but captivating in the way most disarmingly beautiful things can only be. A rush of adrenaline coursed through him as he remembered how such beauty could be manipulated, and of his own doing. The creamy, soft pale skin that flushed pink and red underneath his tanned hands, the long column of his neck Taehyun would openly expose as he arched his back while withering beneath Minho, and that mouth—that sinful mouth—perfectly pouted and naturally pink, which seemed so innocent but Minho knew, first hand, the kinds of profanities that could fall from those pretty lips at the moment of ecstasy.

Minho gave Taehyun an easy smile, hoping to drive that worried look from his expression. “Hey, kiddo.”

Taehyun’s expression soured immediately. “Do you really think you should be calling me that?”

Minho laughed, open and hollow, as he took the seat opposite. True, there was nothing childish about Taehyun, or the things they did together. All in all, he enjoyed his time with his patient, in more ways than one. But Taehyun was giving him a look, all doe-eyed and anticipating, and he sincerely hoped that their playtime wouldn’t have to end so soon.

\---

When the waitress placed Minho’s coffee order down in front of him, it didn’t escape Taehyun’s notice that she spoke to Minho a bit too familiarly, her eyes lingering on him just a little too long, her cheeks flushing an even deeper pink at the smiles Minho freely gave her.

But then she was gone and it was just the two of them, and Taehyun found he was the recipient of Minho’s full and undivided attention.

“Thanks for meeting me.” It sounded so lame, even to his ears, but he couldn’t seem to think straight over the pounding of his own heartbeat. He really should have planned this out more.

Minho shot him an easy grin. “Not at all. It’s my pleasure.”

Taehyun had to look away. The way Minho said that last word was full of innuendo and if he wasn’t careful, they’d probably end up in the bathroom, his pants around his ankles and pressed hard against the wall. And while that would fulfill one of his many fantasies of Minho, the stuff of his nocturnal dreams, Taehyun didn’t come here for that. Or at least not only for that.

“Listen,” Minho broke the silence in more serious tone, "I’m sorry about that…about earlier,” Minho looked at bit sheepish, avoiding Taehyun’s gaze and rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I got a little carried away. I didn't mean to finish…like that.”

The image of Minho in the throws of an intense orgasm, his hands fiercely gripping Taehyun’s thighs and groaning against his ear, combined with the feeling of being completely filled with Minho’s release, and later, the memory of it leaking out and down his legs, made Taehyun squirm in his seat.

“It’s fine,” Taehyun brushed Minho’s concerns aside with a wave of his hand. “I...didn't mind it,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his admission. Meeting Minho’s eyes, Taehyun could see them sparkle with happy desire. It was there, right there--that pull of attraction between them that pulsed in the air and electrified everything.

“Hmm, I will keep that in mind.” Hearing Minho’s deep growl again brought a flush to Taehyun’s cheeks and tightness to his pants. Minho took a sip of his coffee, looking across the table at Taehyun who seemed to be at a loss now that they had exhausted that topic. Leaning on his elbow, he gazed at the other man, open appreciation apparent in his eyes. “You don’t have to be shy around me, Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s eyebrows met in the center of his forehead, “That’s not it, I just—” he found himself again scrambling for words. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“Why did you ask to see me?”

Taehyun let his fingers trace the rim of his mug, feeling so torn and hating it with everything in him. This wasn’t who he was. He didn’t get weak in the knees, he never questioned what he was about, and he never ever confessed. He knew he was going to do something he would regret, but he also knew he would regret not doing anything about it. He was ruined the moment Song Minho walked through the door of Examination Room 3.

Maybe even before that.

Lifting his eyes to meet Minho’s, a quiet storm raging in his chest, he released the words he knew he shouldn’t say—the words he could never take back. “I j-just wanted to see you.”

The air was ripe with pause.

“I wanted to see you too, kiddo.”

“It’s just—we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“I said that you could ask me anything, Taehyun. And I know more about you than you think.”

“Like what?”

“Blood type: A; Birthday: May 10, 1994; From Hanam-dong; Height—”

“All things from my chart.”

“They are the things I need to know about you.”

“For work.”

“For life, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Taehyun—and it was a joke.”

“What part?”

“It must not have been very funny then.”

“No.”

They lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Feeling increasingly frustrated and annoyed and utterly helpless, Taehyun pulled at the ends of his hair. Minho was still all smiles with him, but they seemed mechanical now. Like that of the good doctor who was trying to placate an unruly patient. It made Taehyun want to take it all back back—to reverse time and keep those hateful words to himself.

“Look, Taehyun,” Minho sighed, deciding that he couldn’t stand the situation any further. “I like you. I really do. But you’re my patient and I’m your doctor. These kinds of things are all good and fun, but they never work out in the end. I fucked you in an exam room the first time I met you, for crying out loud. Trust me when I say that’s no way to begin anything.”

Logically, Taehyun knew he was being rejected, had a version of that very speech when one of his lovers tired to be something more with him. And yet all the logic in the world hadn't prepared him to grasp the reality of the situation. He brought his cup to his lips quickly, trying, in vain he knew, to cover his embarrassment.

"We have fun, right?" Minho continued, that easy grin never leaving his face. "Let's not over complicate things. Complications lead to misunderstandings which lead to awkwardness and then the next thing I know you'll apply to some other doctor and I'll just have lost a patient," Minho tried on an easy-going tone, tried to keep things light and teasing. "It's a messy, troublesome affair, and no one wants that."

Taehyun nodded, mutely, and he knew in that moment exactly what Minho thought of him. Something fun, some kind of distraction from work, something with which he could release his tension, but not worth keeping around. Not worth getting to know.

He felt wounded and embarrassed, certainly, but he could still be cool about it, he still had his pride after all, if it wasn’t for a thought that entered his mind and wouldn’t leave.

Taehyun’s eyes narrowed, picking up on Minho’s slip. “You’ve done this before."

"Excuse me?"

“This—this seduction of patients—it’s a common thing for you, isn’t it?” Taehyun felt his ears grow hot. "You speak as if from experience."

Minho had the decency to look abashed. “That's not—”

Taehyun laughter was loud and false, all wounded pride and false bravado. “No wonder that nurse was always so amused when she looked at me. It makes so much sense.” He shook his head in disgust. “I was her boss’ current play thing.”

“Taehyun—”

“Did you have sex with her too? That nurse?” The accusation in Taehyun’s voice was shrill and piercing. “With your staff?”

“No.” Minho’s answer was firm. “Never with the staff—”

“Oh, just with patients then,” Taehyun sneered. “I guess I should feel special.”

“Hey, don’t do this. Look—”

Taehyun finished off the rest of his now cold coffee in one long swig before nearly slamming his mug down. It felt good to be angry—it was a familiar emotion. Whether or not he had a right to feel angry, well, that was another issue entirely. “No, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not listen to you make up excuses. I’ll save you the trouble. Goodbye.”

“Taehyun!” Minho tried to call after Taehyun’s retreating form without causing a scene, but Taehyun stormed out of the coffee shop and just kept walking.

“Wait! Ok, fine, alright?” Minho chased him down the street, grabbing at his arm and making Taehyun face him. “You’re not the first patient I’ve had relations with at work, ok? But there was nothing insincere about what I did with you.”

“Ok.” Taehyun shoved his hands in his pockets, already looking to escape. “You done?”

Minho threw his hands up in frustration. “What do you want from me, Taehyun?” he asked seriously.

Taehyun shrugged, the pieces of his indifference falling back into place. “Nothing.” He was being unreasonable, he knew, but the desire to preserve himself overruled any logic. “See you around—hopefully not though.”

Minho blocked his path. “Taehyun—I know you’re just going to believe what you want but I didn’t set out to deceive you or take advantage of you. I just thought that we were both interested and attracted to each other—that we both knew this wasn’t going to be anything serious. I didn’t mean to lead you on. If I did, I’m sorry but it wasn’t intentional.”

And that was probably what cut the deepest. Taehyun finally met Minho’s eyes. “I know.”

Effect: Taehyun coming home, drinking everything he had stored in his apartment before throwing up and passing out on his living room floor

Cause: Song fucking Minho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 01/25/2015 
> 
> cross posted at my [LJ](http://clio323.livejournal.com/20496.html)


	3. The House Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated for language and mature situations

Minho collapsed into his office chair and let his exhaustion wash over him for a moment. It had been a particularly busy day full of difficult and trying patients who grew increasingly irritating with each passing hour. Perhaps it was that he just didn’t have the patience or sympathy to deal with their worries and complaints, and it showed too, as nurses who would normally smile and flirt with him, who devoured him with their eyes on daily basis, steered clear of him the whole day—the entire week actually, now that he thought about.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Minho knew the source of his agitation and foul-mood. It had very little to do with his patients themselves, he knew this, and everything to do with a certain droopy-eyebrowed individual with a center part that had been plaguing Minho’s thoughts for the past week. Erotic fantasies often left him panting and dissatisfied, sometimes embarrassed and in need of a change of clothes, but that wasn’t even the worst part. The fantasies Minho hated the most were the sweet dreams, the happy dreams, where he would wake up searching for the warmth he had in his sleeping life, only to be crushingly disappointed when he realized the truth of the matter.

Minho sighed, pushing fingertips into his temples. The throbbing pain in his head? Encephalalgia. The mild dehydration he was probably experiencing could be treated be an increase intake of fluids. He could easily chug a sports drink to replace electrolytes if needed.

This was the world Minho could understand. The world he operated in with precise execution, literally and figuratively. This was the world he moved in confidently because any doubt, any hesitation could mean the difference between life and death. 

But whatever this was—this illness he felt in his chest—he couldn’t give a prognosis. Couldn’t run tests, couldn’t operate, couldn’t prescribe medication or treatment.

If Nam Taehyun was the cause of his illness, then what was the cure?

\---

“Is something wrong?” 

Minho looked over his wine glass at the woman sitting across from him. They were at some fancy restaurant that he’d let her pick out, complete with candles and an actual violin player, and they’d been enjoying their dinner (if you counted him pushing food around on a plate) for the last hour. The woman’s gaze, smoky from eyeliner and mascara, was locked on him, a slight pout on her lips.

“No,” Minho sat back and replied easily. If he was distracted, he would be the last to admit it. “Not at all, why do you ask?”

“You’re so quiet,” she said, the pout on her lips deeper. “Do you not like the place?”

Minho gave her his best, most devastating grin. “How can I not like it, when you’re here with me?” He reached for her hand, brushed his fingers over her knuckles in an intimate caress. By the blush blooming on her cheeks, he knew he was forgiven.

“Doctor Song,” she giggled at the use of his formal title, “I think I’m all done here.”

“You don’t want dessert?”

She pulled his hand close to her, kissing his knuckles lightly before giving the lightest, most suggestive lick on his fingertip. “I have other things in mind for dessert.”

\---

After their hasty escape from the restaurant, they clambered into his car, where she surprised him by climbing into his lap. “Whoa, hey,” Minho’s meek words of protest went unheard as her hands landed everywhere on his body, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and tugging on his shirt buttons. She kissed him hard, tongue eager in his mouth, hips rolling against him in the promise of things to come.

Minho sighed when she started lapping at his neck, because it really should have been enough. She was offering him sex and after the week he’s had, this was exactly the kind of release he needed. The reckless abandon that would surely get him out of his funk and drive away whatever gloom had lingered over him. He kissed her back with equal passion, his hands finding their home on her hips.

Yes, this was exactly the cure he needed to get over his Nam Taehyun-induced illness.

But even the thought of that patient stirred up other images, desires, fantasies, and suddenly the body on top of his felt altogether wrong. “Wait, hold on a second,” he pulled back from her bruising kiss. 

“Why, what’s wrong?” she panted, looking down at him with eyes blown wide with lust. She was really gorgeous, the image of perfection only slightly marred by her messy hair (his doing) and normally he wouldn’t have thought twice about running his hands up her thighs and under her tight dress, but for some reason he couldn’t stomach the thought of doing so now.

“I can’t…do this,” Minho confessed, hating himself just a little bit.

She looked at him seriously for a moment. “What?”

After deliberating over the many excuses he could pass to get himself out of this situation, Minho decided on the most humiliating but simplest. He gestured to his lap, which showed no sign of arousal. “I’m sorry.”

Silently, she contemplated him for a while, a mix of offense, pity, and disappointment apparent on her face. Wanting to save her the embarrassment, Minho leaned in a kissed her gently. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

\---

Taehyun ran his towel over his wet hair one last time before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor and kicking it toward the general direction of the continuously accumulating pile of soiled laundry he was cultivating on the floor. 

Pulling the ends of his bathrobe belt tighter, Taehyun padded across his apartment, a trail of damp footprints in his wake. He lit a cigarette, the flare of his lighter casting an amber glow on his face, a momentary flash of light in his otherwise darkened apartment. Blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, he tried not to think about the very thing he was thinking about. Or the very person. Song Minho.

A week had gone by since he had last seen of or heard from his good doctor. A week since his last fabulous fuck. But more than just the loss of great sex, was the lesson Taehyun learned as a result of his whole encounter with Minho. What was most surprising, most hurtful, wasn’t simply that Minho had rejected him. It was the striking realization that Minho had seen him in the very light that Taehyun had seen his previous lovers, the ones who wanted more from him—a needy nuisance, a clingy and tiring bother in his life. Taehyun had always been annoyed when they couldn’t see that what Taehyun offered them had an expiration date on it.

But for Minho, Taehyun was the one asking for more, was the one who couldn’t see the limit of what Minho was offering, was the nuisance in Minho’s life. It made Taehyun realize how coldly he had acted towards his previous lovers, how dismissive and egotistical he had behaved, how insensitive he had been. Where Taehyun had thought so little of his lovers, Minho thought so little of him. Never before had Taehyun been so properly humbled. Never before had Taehyun understood the meaning of regret.

For that reason and many others, Taehyun couldn’t, and refused, to be embarrassed about what had transpired between him and Minho. No torturing himself over what he had said and done—and worse, what he hadn’t said or done. He had made himself the slightest bit vulnerable and while he was definitely smarting from rejection, Taehyun felt more alive than he had in a while.

He supposed he was grateful to Minho for that.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, Taehyun was debating whether he should pick up a pen when the shrill ring of his phone cut into the silence surrounding him. Digging his phone out from in between couch cushions, a familiar name flashed on the display.

Seungyoon.

He allowed himself a moment’s hesitation before answering.

\---

“I’m really surprised you answered my call,” Seungyoon smiled at him, crooked and sweet. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

That’s because I was.

Taehyun shook his head. “I was just busy. I’ve had a lot to think about this week.” And then, almost like an afterthought, he added, “I’m sorry.”

Seungyoon brushed his apology off with a wave of his hand. “No worries. We all have those weeks,” he smiled at Taehyun before grabbing the drinks their waitress set down before them. They were at a small bar, one that Taehyun frequented quite often as it was just around the corner from his apartment, but one that he never took his...dates.

“Want to talk about it?” Seungyoon asked when he noticed Taehyun staring hard at the drink in his hand. “It might help.”

Taehyun let his eyes take in the guy in front of him. He had met Seungyoon a few weeks back at a local bar, their shared loved of a band bringing them together until they stumbled into Seungyoon’s apartment later that night and Taehyun crept out in the morning. 

By chance or fate, they ran into each other the next weekend—different band, different bar, but same story. Except this time Seungyoon had managed to sneak Taehyun’s number into his phone. They had exchanged a few messages since then, mostly Seungyoon asking Taehyun to come out, and Taehyun making excuses.

This was, of course, all before Taehyun had that doctor’s appointment from hell. Or heaven, he wasn’t sure anymore. 

“Why are you interested in me?” Taehyun blurted out. The surprise was apparent on Seungyoon’s face, and he couldn’t hide the blush that stained his cheeks. He gave a little laugh to mask his shyness, rubbed the back of his neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I treat you like crap,” Taehyun admitted. “Yes, I had a busy week but not so busy that I couldn’t reply to your texts. And…you’re so nice. You’re cute. And you’ve got great taste in music. I’m sure you wouldn’t have to try as hard with anyone else. So why are you interested in a jerk like me?”

“Uh, well…”

“It can’t just be for the sex, right?” 

Seungyoon laughed at the seriousness in Taehyun’s face as he asked that question. He looked like a lost child asking his parents to help him solve a puzzle that had eluded him for days. “As great as the sex has been,” Seungyoon answered, eyes alive with humor, “that’s not the only reason why I’m interested in you.”

“Then, why?”

“You really want to know?” he asked. And at Taehyun’s nod of affirmation, Seungyoon sighed, blush returning to his face. “I mean, I think you have a wicked sense of humor. And you’re right, we have similar tastes in music. I think you’re fun when you let yourself be, and… I really like the thoughtful look behind your eyes when something you think is beautiful catches your attention.”

Taehyun was stunned. No one had ever said such insightful and kind things about him before, and never in that tone of sincerity mixed with shy reserve. He was flattered beyond compare, but also felt so inadequate to meet Seungyoon’s estimation of him. He wished he could return Seungyoon’s interest, could save the other boy from disappointment. But above all, he felt again that stirring of regret, of apology. 

“I was just kidding,” Seungyoon threw out once he caught Taehyun’s look of wallowing despair, “I mean, it was really just the sex.” He smiled at Taehyun, wanting to alleviate some of the tension that had seeped into his features.

The smile Taehyun gave him was small, but kind. “I’m sorry, Seungyoon,” he said sincerely. “You’re a good guy. Far too good to be toyed with by the likes of me. So, I’ll tell you now that I can’t return your feelings. I wish I could, really, because you seem like a great guy.”

Seungyoon's smile faded from his lips. He nodded once before finishing off his drink. “I guess, thanks for being honest with me. It will keep me from wondering,” he said, not meeting Taehyun’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyun whispered. He felt terrible, which was new for him. Never before had he a problem dismissing his flings before, and he never, ever, apologized to them. But he had a new-found sympathy, thanks to one particular doctor.

“I was thinking,” Taehyun said quickly as Seungyoon rose to gather his things. Seungyoon looked up at him questioningly. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, because he had never asked this of anyone before. “I was thinking, if you want, that maybe we could try and be friends.”

Taehyun winced at how cliché he sounded and even Seungyoon laughed. “Sure. Friends.”

“I mean it!” Taehyun grabbed onto Seungyoon’s sleeve. “I’m serious! We could maybe go to a couple shows together or grab a drink every so often. I never have anyone to go with anyway.”

This made Seungyoon pause. “Why would you go from ignoring me to suddenly wanting to be my friend?” he asked skeptically.

It was a fair question, even if it made Taehyun squirm in his seat. “I realized that I had a lot to be sorry for, and I’m trying to make amends where I can,” he replied slowly. “But besides all of that, I meant all those things I said before…and I think we could be good friends.”

Seungyoon sat back in his seat, and ordered them another round before turning to Taehyun with a smile on his lips. “Friends…like real friends? Not like, friends-with-benefits friends?” he quipped. 

Taehyun threw back his head and laughed. “Like friends-friends.” 

“That’s a shame,” Seungyoon tsked and Taehyun laughed again. He fleetingly wished that he did like Seungyoon. It would be so much easier.

“Well then,” Seungyoon raised his new drink in his direction, which Taehyun gladly met with his own. “To being new friends-friends.”

“Cheers.”

\---

Song Minho thought for sure his eyes must be playing tricks on him. He was stopped at a light, his date sulking in her seat, and who does he see through the window of the bar adjacent to his car? None other than Nam Taehyun, laughing his head off and toasting drinks with some kid with a bright smile. 

Well, that didn’t take very long, did it?

He’s pulled from his unkind thoughts by the honk of the car behind him, alerting him that the traffic light had changed. He stomped on the accelerator with far more force than he had anticipated.

\---

Taehyun returned to his apartment after drinks with Seungyoon in high and good spirits. That is, until his phone rang again and this time he didn’t recognize the number displayed on the screen. 

He answered it after a moment.

“I need to see you again.”

Taehyun almost dropped his phone. “Minho?”

\---

Song Minho stared at the apartment building that seemed to rise up in front of him, the floors stacked one another creating an impenetrable fortress. The lights from windows indicated that people were home, some probably just arriving from work, others preparing to leave, families sitting down for dinner, others in front of their favorite programs, couples in love, some on the verge of a breakup, there were illicit affairs too, as well as unrequited loves—and in all of that there was also Nam Taehyun. As Minho’s eyes traced the windows of the building, he wondered where Taehyun fell in all of the possible scenarios therein.

Shaking his head, Minho tried to focus, tried to get himself together because this, this was unfamiliar territory for him. Standing in front of an apartment building, waiting for a lover to emerge from its depths, having been carried here by legs that seemed to have had a mind of their own, this was not what Song Minho did. But seeing that kid laughing over drinks with some other guy made something in him snap, drew him here, made him call, and begged to see Taehyun again even when Minho knew they were probably best apart. He had felt pained at their parting--Taehyun’s cold aloofness made him feel sorry—but certainly not enough that he should have ended up here, in front of Taehyun’s home, like a stalker for crying out loud.

But then, there, Minho saw movement in the front doors, saw the hooded figure emerge from its darkness. And there was respite in Minho’s chest, a subdued kind of relief at seeing Taehyun turn his steps toward his direction. Minho watched him approach, took in the length of Taehyun’s stride, the way his parted hair moved with movement, the way his clothes fit him in all the right ways to accentuate all of Taehyun’s best features. He also took in the tight line of an unsmiling mouth set in that untouchable beauty of a face. Taehyun had such a cold look about him, his beauty was isolating, his expressions naturally disinterested, but Minho knew how his face could change in dramatic, intimate ways. The flush that crept on Taehyun’s high cheekbones, the blissed out expression on that beautiful face at the moment of climax, which he tried out conceal with his arms, not wanting anyone to witness him in such a vulnerable moment.

But Minho saw it all. 

“Thanks for meeting me.”

Taehyun shrugged. Not even in his steamiest, most perverse, most hateful imaginings of what it would be like if he ever ran into Minho again did he think that it would actually happen, or that it would come about through a simple phone call. When Taehyun answered his phone, little did he think that what was waiting on the other end was a voice that made him freeze and burn at the same time—the voice that lingered in his dreams and haunted his waking fantasies. 

No, he hadn’t considered that at all.

“How’d you find my address?”

“The same way I got your number.”

It dawned on him. “My file,” he smirked. “I guess it really does have everything you need to know about me on it.”

“Not everything, Taehyun.”

“Your words, not mine.” Taehyun got straight to the point. “So what did you need?”

Taehyun wasn’t prepared for seeing Minho again. In his memories Minho was attraction personified, all charm and overwhelming temptation, but the Minho of reality put his fantasies to shame. The Minho before him was almost too enticing to be real. This Minho was all charisma and sex made flesh, and Taehyun felt that he had to be careful, that he was in some real danger.

He didn’t know what to expect from Minho but he would be damned if he was made a fool by his doctor again. Burying his hands in his pockets, Taehyun simply waited for Minho to give him the reason for this late night rendezvous. Or a reason to stay.

“It’s a nice night out,” Minho tried. “I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk with me.”

“Not really.”

“Please,” Minho turned to him with pleading eyes. “There are some things I’d like to say. Please, Taehyun.”

\---

They walked mostly in silence, Minho not knowing how to bridge the silence and the seemingly impenetrable defenses Taehyun had up. Minho watched as Taehyun fished for something in his pockets.

"Want?" Taehyun slipped a cigarette into his mouth, letting it hang there as he offered Minho one from the box. A knee-jerk reaction, Minho shook his head in adamant refusal. Shrugging, Taehyun pocketed the rest of the pack and lit up.

"You said you didn't smoke," Minho recalled from the previous examination.

Taehyun exhaled smoke and gave a little laugh. "I didn't. But I recently started up again." He shot Minho a look. 

Ignoring the meaning behind that gaze, Minho gently advised, "Those things will kill you."

"So will a million other things, and yet we still do them. Driving cars…using fire. Walking in the dark with strangers. All potentially life-threatening," Taehyun countered. That was a response Minho couldn't argue against. "So what are these things you want to say?"

Clearing his throat, Minho thought of a million ways to start. “Last week, you surprised me. At the café, I knew what you were asking for. And I couldn’t do it, Taehyun. I still don’t think I can.”

Taehyun rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t asking you for forever. I was asking for dinner, for a movie, for another coffee date—not a ring, 2 kids, and happily ever after. And if you think you can’t do even a simple date then I really don’t know why we’re even having this conversation.”

“You might not have been asking for happily ever after, but happily ever after starts with dinner, with a movie, with a coffee date.”

“Would you get over yourself?” Taehyun scoffed and shook his head. “Not every you meet instantly falls in love with you. And if this is what you wanted to say to me, I don’t need you to explain the manifold reasons why you won’t date me. So thanks, but I think I’ll head back now.”

This wasn’t how Minho thought this would go. “Look, I went out on 3 dates this week—”

“Oh, so you can date." Taehyun's tone was derisive and vindictive. "I guess you just can’t date me, dually noted. Tell me, did they wall want to marry you?”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“I imagine everyone wanting to marry you all the time can get so irritating.”

“Taehyun—”

“And only 3 dates? I’m a bit disappointed," Taehyun sneered. He knew he was acting juvenile and yet he couldn’t help himself. "I would have thought that you—being god’s gift to humankind—would have gone on at least 6 dates by now…”

“Well, what about you! You tell me that you like me but you seem to have no problem moving past me and getting chummy with other guys at bars!” Minho accused Taehyun with a push of his finger to his chest.

“What are you even talking about—”

“Don’t play coy, Nam Taehyun,” Minho scolded him seriously. “Tonight! I’m talking about tonight. I saw you with that guy!”

“Seungyoon.”

“I don’t want to know his fucking name!” Minho exploded. “You can’t play the victim here when it’s clear you don’t give a damn!”

Taehyun stood there, appalled, before laughing incredulously. “I can’t believe you brought me here to listen to this shit,” he shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

He laughed again, this time full of spite. “You don’t want anything to do with me, and yet you have the audacity to get upset when you see me with another guy? You’re so selfish,” he spat.

Minho was silent, because it hadn’t even occurred to him that he might be jealous.

“I don’t know why I even bothered, to be honest,” Taehyun continued. “You were right—you were a good fuck and we had fun, but that’s all we’ll ever be. Goodbye and don’t contact me again.”

“Wait!" Minho was getting increasingly frustrated with Taehyun's dismissive behavior. “I’m not done.”

“I am. And for your information, he’s my friend. We are friends. Not that it matters,” Taehyun shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.

"Well, I’m pretty sure that guy doesn’t want to just be friends with you. And you’re not doing him any favors by stringing him along,” Minho threw out because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, because he knew it would get a rise out of Taehyun, and, most of all, because he wanted to get a rise out of him. Minho had no idea what he was still doing there, trying to talk to Taehyun, but the frustration was driving him to be ridiculous.

Taehyun ceased his steps and turned to Minho. "I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of this,” he said slowly and with barely concealed anger. “But this is unfair. I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself, I’m not here for your pity, and I’m definitely not here for you to make comments on my friends. If you think otherwise then you can go fuck yourself." 

Minho wiped a hand over his face, conflicted and spiraling out of control. Taehyun was right, he knew he was right. He sighed, “Look, I’m sorry—”

“Save it,” Taehyun stopped Minho’s apology. “I don’t want to hear anymore. You think this is easy for me? Have you stopped to think how difficult it is for me to even see you right now?”

“But does that even make sense?” Minho cried out. “It’s ridiculous! It is fucking ridiculous! Why would seeing me be difficult for you? You don’t even know me! I know nothing about you—nothing! Why should I care about your feelings? Why should I think about you every goddamn second!”

“Why do I cut my dates short because I can’t get you out of head? Why did I go crazy over seeing you with that Seungyoon guy tonight? This makes no fucking sense and I hate it! Who the fuck are you?”

Minho took a breath, his tone more defeated than angry. “I feel happy being with you right now even when you’re being the biggest shit—does that even make sense? Just who the fuck are you, Taehyun? Because I can’t stand this anymore. I—”

Minho’s words were cut short when he found himself enveloped in Taehyun’s embrace, the younger man’s arms securely wrapped around his waist, lips pressed to his shoulder.

“Damn it, Taehyun.”

But Taehyun didn’t make a comment, didn’t do anything but continue to hold Minho close. And Minho let himself be held, relished in this feeling of closeness. They stayed quiet and still for a long time, growing accustomed to this other presence, this foreign body that nevertheless filled in all the spaces in them that had been left lonely and wanting. How long they stayed that way, Minho wasn’t sure, couldn’t care less, because of the overwhelming sense of peace that was washing over him, easing from his joints and muscles all the stress and tension that had plagued him for the past week.

In another world, he could say he was content.

“I’ve never done this before,” Minho confessed. I’ll probably be bad at it.”

Taehyun laughed. “I’ve not done this before either. We’ll probably both suck at it.”

Seeing Taehyun look at him without distain was enough to lift Minho’s spirits. “So what do we do now?” he asked with a sheepish smile.

With timid fingers, Taehyun slipped his hand gently into Minho’s. They both stared down at their interlaced fingers for a long moment.

“It’s a start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 04/29/2015
> 
> cross-posted on my [LJ](http://clio323.livejournal.com/22463.html)
> 
> If you read this while it was in its original version on AFF, you might have noticed that there have been major changes. I've been re-editing/reworking ER3 on the whole and trying to fix all the things that bothered me about the story the first time around. And coming back to this story after such a long time, my writing style is really different now, but I really tried to match the same tone and style as the original. Many apologies for where I failed. You may have also noticed (if you chanced on this on AFF) that I took out a lot of the really steamy scenes. I hope you don't mind (this was originally written to practice smutty writing but it was just plain terrible and I couldn't stop cringing)!


	4. Epilogue

 

The first time they kiss they argue who initiated it. Its their 5th date—officially— and they have been dating for a dizzying and heart-pounding two weeks, but in all of that time, and despite all their sexual intimacies before, they haven’t gotten past the occasional hand holding and steamy stares at the end of their dates. Sometimes, if they’re lucky, Taehyun will maybe innocently, probably intentionally, caress Minho’s back, or Minho will throw his arm around Taehyun’s shoulders for a quick hug—if they’re lucky.

Both Minho and Taehyun are particularly loath to end their date and so they walk endlessly on through the night, wanting to prolong the intimacy and whatever magic is floating between them further and further. But at last, they reach Taehyun’s apartment where their footsteps cease and linger. Seconds fly by as they stare at each other, each hoping the other is brave enough to make the first move.

Finally, Taehyun gives a little laugh, trying desperately to relieve the tension that has built up throughout their evening, and asks Minho if he wouldn’t like to come up for coffee or dessert. He pulls at the ends of his hair before meeting Minho’s gaze, his eyes an open invitation. Minho lets out a deep exhale, taking a moment to look up at the building as if he can see the future of what would happen should he accept Taehyun’s offer.

They both know that if Minho says yes—the way he wants to say yes and the way Taehyun is hoping he’ll say yes—if he follows Taehyun inside and up into his apartment, the only dessert to be had would be a night of delicious passion.

And maybe coffee would come in the morning.

Minho shakes his head, although he is sorely tempted, and has to physically take a step away from Taehyun lest he take it all back. He tells Taehyun with a tight smile that definitely another time, but not tonight—not yet. Taehyun understands, of course, knows the reasons why, and recognizes the disappointment revealed in Mino’s face.

Instead, Minho pulls Taehyun into his chest, drops a light kiss onto the crown of his head before letting him go with words of goodnight. But Taehyun is not to be discouraged and in the next moment he is pressing his lips to Minho’s—it’s not a pretty kiss, hardly anything to it besides the meeting of flesh, and it’s over before Mino can respond.

Cheekily, Taehyun says that he could tell Minho had been thinking about it all night, but was too chicken to do anything about it.

Not one to be outdone, Minho pulls Taehyun roughly against him, and Taehyun's laughter fades away when he sees the desire burning in Minho’s eyes. You call that a kiss, Minho teases against Taehyun’s parted lips before he kisses him properly.

\---

The first time Minho and Seungyoon meet, it is a little tense--too much chest puffing and dick measuring for Taehyun's liking--as they stare at each other across the dining table, Taehyun fluttering between them. Conversation is clipped, Minho and Seungyoon both taking shots whenever and wherever they can, and Taehyun sits back in his chair, regretting even proposing the meeting between his boyfriend and his friend/former fling.

It isn't until Seungyoon makes an off-handed comment meant to tease Taehyun that they agree on anything. Minho even cracks as smile, looking affectionately at Taehyun and yet siding with Seungyoon on the particular and unusual quirk of Taehyun's--the boy doesn't like his food to touch on his plate, insists on separating sides and mains, gets upset if gravy strays from his potatoes and saddles up next to his chicken.

Taehyun scoffs, defends his preference admirably, but really can't complain when the two people closest to him join forces and crack teasing jokes at his expense. After Seungyoon leaves and Minho is cleaning in the living room, picking up the bottle wine enjoyed between the three of them, he turns to Taehyun and says with real regret that he's sory that it has taken him this long to meet Seungyoon. "He's kind of cool," he says, not meeting Taehyun's gaze.

And Taehyun will lean over and kiss Minho on the cheek, gratitude and affection in his caress.

\---

Their first big argument comes on a perfect Sunday afternoon, the two of them enjoying ice cream cones and window shopping along Garosu-gil, when they hear Minho’s name being called out by a well-dressed woman quickly crossing the street to meet them. She is all smiles as Minho steps forward to greet her, and they spend a few moments chatting about this or that. Taehyun waits patiently to be acknowledged behind Minho’s shoulder, and when the woman finally notices him, Minho is forced to make an introduction. The woman is Dr. Kim, the head of his department, Minho explains to Taehyun, who smiles prettily and makes a polite bow. But then Minho stumbles over his words before quickly calling Taehyun his friend. The woman politely returns Taehyun’s bow, and deeming him a non-threat, focuses her attention back to Minho, who again edges Taehyun out of the conversation completely.

Taehyun watches as his boyfriend flirts shamelessly with his boss for the next few minutes, before she finally breaks away—caressing Minho’s arms in mock-friendliness as she departs.

Minho watches her pass the corner, and it is only then that he turns back to Taehyun’s unsmiling face. Minho opens his mouth to either apologize or explain, Taehyun doesn’t know which because he shoves his melting ice cream cone in Minho’s face and walks away.

\---

The first time they say those three little words it comes so naturally that they almost miss it. On the day they’re supposed to head to Busan, Taehyun calls Minho and reminds him to stop by the pharmacy on his way home to get anti-motion sickness pills, and not to forget to bring the snacks Taehyun likes so much. Minho calls him spoiled and a nag, against which Taehyun huffs and denies and tries to defend himself. Minho laughs at how he can practically see Taehyun’s pout through the line. He apologizes for his comments, tells Taehyun that he should there in 20 minutes, and that he loves him.

It’s not until Taehyun gets off the phone that he realizes what Minho said.

When Minho arrives carrying a bag of medicine and snacks, he looks shaken and pale, as if he doesn’t know how Taehyun feels about him, as if he’s worried about rejection, as if he hadn’t meant to say the words he said.

Taehyun takes the bag from Minho’s hand and checks its contents before thanking Minho and slipping in a by the way I love you too. Minho stands there transfixed before he breaks out into his shy smile—Taehyun’s favorite—and then lunges at Taehyun.

They do not make it to Busan that weekend.

\---

The first time Taehyun’s work gets published Minho comes barreling through the front door and skids to a stop when his eyes land on Taehyun, who is trying hard not to show how much he cares. Clutched in Minho’s hand is the first major publication to feature Taehyun’s poetry and the big and dopey grin he wears on his face reveals how proud he is. Taehyun tries to shrug it off but finds himself lifted straight off the ground as Minho swings him around in happiness. Taehyun’s laughter echoes off the walls.

\---

The first time Taehyun knows that he must really love Minho is when Minho asks him to move in. All of his life Taehyun had insisted upon his independence and loathed romantic commitment in all its forms, never wanting to lose his sense of self by becoming one-of-two, but when Minho nervously asks him over dinner whether it wouldn’t just make more sense for Taehyun to come and live with him since they spend most of their time there anyway and wasn’t Minho’s apartment closer to Taehyun’s office and the apartment would be big enough for both of them to live in and well, it was just an idea—it is the easiest thing in the world for Taehyun to reach over and tug at Minho's white-knuckled grip on his napkin, smile and nod his head yes, and all before dessert is served.

\---

When Minho gets promoted, Taehyun personally comes to the hospital to celebrate—which means he ends up bent over every surface of Minho’s new office—and for sentimentality's sake Dr. Song gives Nam Taehyun a physical in Examination Room 3, on the house of course.

 

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End


End file.
